


Wintering Instincts

by Kemmasandi



Series: Brave Adventurers [2]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 06:43:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11800581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kemmasandi/pseuds/Kemmasandi
Summary: Rakuyou makes a terrible joke and Marco can't let him get away with it.





	Wintering Instincts

**Author's Note:**

> There was [a post on tumblr.](http://rockingthegraveyard.tumblr.com/post/162472781545) Immediately I had such a strong mental image that I could not help but write it out.

Being a pirate necessitated, above all things, a certain irreverence and lack of regard for the norms of society. After all, those who were satisfied with their lives were vanishingly unlikely to get up and abandon those lives to chase the horizon, no matter what treasures lay over that distant line.

This tendency varied in expression, taking on as many forms as there were pirates on the seas. Some became violent, revelling in their own lack of empathy. Others formed their own dreams, stopping at nothing to make those dreams reality. Some floated aimlessly around the Grand Line, looking for something to replace the world they’d left behind.

Still others found their enjoyment in... minor transgressions. And even being a commander of one of the most feared crews in the New World did not give one immunity; after all, pirates were not known for their respect of authority.

* * *

Snow drifted down out of a blanket of low, wispy clouds, fog that didn’t quite reach the surface of the ocean. Marco brushed the snowflakes from his jacket as they landed.

They’d passed Geyser Rock a day or so ago, following a roundabout route to Lister Mates. The snow and cloud indicated they’d entered the wintry climate zone around the island overnight. Thatch had started referring to the island as ‘Pops’ retirement village’ for the amount of time Whitebeard liked to spend there. Marco privately thought that Pops could have picked a place with better weather if he ever planned to step down from piracy. 

He finished his morning inspection of the ship a little quicker than usual, and if he found himself a seat in the galley close to a brazier after, no-one else was around to notice. Marco put the feathers back in the ‘early bird’.

He had just finished his morning coffee when voices raised in the hallway outside. Individual words did not make it through the galley walls, but his crewmates’ voices were unmistakeable. Vista, Rakuyou, and either Fossa or Kingdew; those two sounded like twins on the Den-Den Mushi. 

The galley door opened and the three men came walking in. A fourth trailed in their wake; Portgas D. Ace, newly minted Second Division Commander, yawning and rubbing his still-sleepy eyes. They gravitated inevitably to the kitchen, where the cooks on morning shift piled four plates high with with breakfast (one significantly larger than the rest) and sent them back out to eat in the galley. Marco did his best impression of an uninteresting sort of galley limpet, but Rakuyou caught sight of him and waved across the galley, grinning.

Marco did not like that grin. It had shades of Thatch to it.

“Morning, Marco. We were just talking about you!”

Marco narrowed his eyes. Since he had been cursed with a face that permanently looked as if he was about to fall asleep, this did not properly convey the depth of his suspicion, but Rakuyou had been with the crew long enough that he ought to recognise the expression anyway. “That sounds worrying. Should I be concerned, yoi?”

Rakuyou recognised it all right. His grin grew deeper. “Nah. I promise we’re not up to nothin’.”

“I’m not,” said Fossa, setting his plate down on Marco’s table and taking a seat. “I can’t speak for these three, though.”

Vista guided a half-asleep Ace to a chair of his own, where the newbie fixed his black eyes on his plate and began shoveling food into his mouth as if he was still asleep. He possibly was, Marco judged. Narcolepsy could be a bitch. “Speak for yourself, then. I have no dastardly intentions until at least Saturday.”

“I’ll put a note in my weekly planner,” Marco replied, snarking lightly. He peered into his mug, wondering if the dregs were drinkable. “Is one of you going to spill the beans, or do I have to tattle to Pops?”

“That’s a bit drastic.” Rakuyou laughed, a sound which did not fill Marco with confidence. “It’s okay, Marco. We were just discussing your wellbeing.”

“My wellbeing?” Marco raised an eyebrow. Rakuyou nodded, thick dreadlocks bouncing around his face.

“Yup. I was just saying to Fossa here, I don’t think you should be going out in the cold so much.”

Marco blinked like a cat, slow and suspicious. “I see.”

Fossa gave him a sidelong glance. “I told him you wouldn’t take to it.”

“No, no, I’m interested in his reasoning.” Marco steepled his fingers, resting them on the edge of the table. Rakuyou gave them a look. “What’s your concern?” 

“All this white shit falling from the sky,” said the Sixth Division commander, pointing to the portholes on the other side of the galley. “It’s cold as balls out there. I’m sure it can’t be good for you.”

Behind Rakuyou, Marco noticed several Whitebeard Pirates with their heads turned, eavesdropping on the commanders’ conversation. Of course there was an audience -- no pirate would pass up the opportunity for entertainment.

So he nodded, playing along with Rakuyou’s sincere act. “Yes, it’s quite a bother, yoi.”

“I mean, like I said to Fossa here, shouldn’t one of us take over your outside duties for a while?” Rakuyou’s eyes glittered; he knew exactly what he was saying. “Who’ll look after us all if you fly south for the winter?”

Silence settled across the galley. Dozens of pairs of eyes settled on Marco -- watching, waiting to see how he’d react.

Marco sighed. Picking up his empty mug, he stood, pushing his chair into the table. Then he returned the mug to the kitchen, because he wasn’t raised in a barn, and swept out into the hallway, followed by a flock of pirates. Rakuyou ran to catch up.

“I’m serious, Marco! I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go outside right now!”

Well, at least the man knew how to stick to a joke. 

Marco opened the door to the main deck and a gust of wet, snowy wind smacked him in the face. Maybe Rakuyou had a point. 

Still, Marco couldn’t let him get away unchastised. Without breaking his stride, he went straight to the side of the ship, where he transformed his arms to the phoenix’s wings and leapt up onto the railing.

“Thanks for the reminder,” he said, turning to face his assembled crewmates. “Rakuyou here has kindly volunteered to take over my duties for the remainder of our stay here. Be good for him, won’t you?”

There was a chorus of enthusiastic promises. The only thing a Whitebeard Pirate liked more than a good joke was not being the butt of someone else’s.

Rakuyou grabbed his dreadlocks. “Hey, I never! What am I going to tell Pops?!”

“Tell him I’m following my animal instincts,” Marco said, and as he turned added over his shoulder as an afterthought, “and that I’ll be back in spring. You shouldn’t have reminded me, yoi.”

He launched, shifting into the full phoenix form. And a shouted question echoed after him: “You gonna come back with lots of li’l phoenixes in tow?” 


End file.
